The Jockey and His Escapades
by Kaito X Len - Banana Split
Summary: It all started out with a bored Jockey and his marching band uniform. The Survivors come by, and here starts a story of a Jockey and his escapades. Little chapters meant for humor. Rated PG for a bit of foul language and romance later on. Jockey X Jockey later on and a small tinge of Nellis. Please review, they make my day.


_**THE JOCKEY NEEDS WAY MORE LOVE. SO HE GETS IT IN THIS FIC.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead. Valve does. I own the Jockeys that exist in this story.  
I also own Black Elm High School and the Black Elm Bullets, as I don't think they exist. If they do, then I don't own them.**_

_**Warning: Only spent four days on this. Not my best work, but I like it and think it's at least somewhat post-worthy.  
This is also probably going to be the longest one out of all of my little chapters, as it is the introductory chapter. Please vote on my poll for the next one.**_

_**(By the way, Dinkles are a brand of marching band shoes,  
and "Detail, atten, hut!" is the command my drum major uses to call my marching band to attention. Yes, I am in my high school marching band.)**_

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_Chapter I: The Jockey in a Marching Band Uniform_

The moldy, decrepit school was his home. When he entered the campus, if he looked to the right of the road and read the sign, it would have said "Black Elm High School", if not for the letters that fell off and the ivy and morning glory growing all over it. It didn't matter, though. He knew his school by heart, even though he looked very different from how he used to. He never slumped or lolloped around as he did now from that accursed Infection, and that same disease wouldn't let him stop laughing most of the time. Before, he wasn't an extremely popular kid, but he was nice to everyone, and everyone was nice to him. Now, whenever anyone saw him, they screamed "JOCKEY!" and grabbed their guns. He usually darted into the school through a window before they could put a bullet in him, but if he was unlucky enough to get injured, his wounds would heal in time.

He sighed, roaming about the halls. Feeling particularly bored that early afternoon, he wandered into the music room and flopped down onto the covered grand piano that he claimed as his bed. What could he do today that would keep him interested for a while? Kicking his feet, waving his hands, and groaning in boredom, he looked around the room.

Wait, what was that?

He scampered over to the azure bag shoved haphazardly in the corner. He had never noticed that before, and he had been here for quite a while.

_What's in this bag thingy why can't I open it there's this little gray line that won't let me open this!? AH GOD DAMMIT OPEN OPEN OPEN! _He thought, screeching in exasperation as he tried, in vain, to open the bag without using the zipper. Finally, he decided to carefully shred the bag open, as he could feel something inside it and he didn't want to put it in disrepair, just in case the thing wouldn't work if it was ripped. His eyebrows raised when he saw what the thing was.

It was a uniform of some sort. The top was made of thick, mossy green fabric, with a black zig-zag in the center and a white elm leaf on the center of the chest. It had a very high collar, and a glinting, silver line of buttons in the center of the zig-zag. There wasn't one on the elm leaf, though. The pants (that looked more like overalls after closer inspection) were the same thickness, but in black, like the zig-zag. He stared, transfixed at the uniform. Running a curious hand over it, a memory quickly unchained and presented itself to him.

-!-

_"You need help, Xavi?" Robbie, the tenor sax section leader, asked over the energetic din of the other marching band members as he saw the freshman struggling to put on his uniform. "I understand if ya do, it's a hard'un to put on. I sometimes still have trouble with it, myself." He moved closer to the younger boy, dodging a baritone player rushing to get out of the auditorium where everyone was changing._

_"That'd be nice, Rob," Xavius smiled as his friend zipped up, er, zipped down the marching band uniform top._

_"You excited for your first football game of the season?" Rob chuckled lightly._

_"Of course! Now I'm officially a Black Elm Bullet!" Xavius gripped his tenor sax tighter in his white-gloved hands, and blew a stray bunch of scruffy carrot-colored hair out of his face._

_"Heck yeah, you are!" Rob high-fived Xavius._

_"I-I'm nervous, though. I don't wanna screw up," Xavius tittered, fingering through the marching band show and trying keep his mind off of his apprehension. It wasn't working all that well._

_"You won't screw up bad, don't worry. It's the first game; everyone'll screw up a bit," Rob patted Xavius on the back. "Even if ya do mess up, you'll still look awesome."_

_"I guess so. Marching band uniforms are the best!" Xavius twisted his torso to get a better look at himself in the mirror. He looked good, and he was gonna do good to live up to his appearance._

Get ready, Walton High Hares. Here come the Bullets, _Xavius grinned._

-!-

The Jockey gasped. Marching band. He was a marching band member last year, a tenor saxophone player! He remembered now!

_I found my uniform now I wanna find my sax where is it WHERE IS IT? Wait lemme put the uniform on what's a marching band player without his school pride and his instrument and his uniform? _He cackled maniacally as he slipped on the uniform pants and put on the top, more memories crashing in on his mind. _Now all I need are my Dinkles! _Sadly, though, there were no pairs of Dinkles to be found. But, he did find his tenor sax in its case after a bit of searching and after (_finally_) opening the case. And as he put on his hat and his gloves (though the gloves ripped because of his claws), Xavius the Jockey felt a large wave of satisfaction wash over him as he looked in the mirror. He let out a proud little huff.

Now to go outside and practice a little marching.

-!-

"You guys see that, right? I'm not seeing things?" Nick looked at his fellow Survivors, biting his lip to keep from laughing, and jerked his thumb to his right. Ellis looked over and let out a chuckle.

"Nope, man, Ah see it, too," He put his hands on his hips. "Ah ain't never seen anythin' like it."

"Is that a Jockey in a marching band uniform?" Rochelle tilted her head and blinking a few times, not believing her eyes.

"Yup," Nick couldn't hold it in any longer. He cracked up. Ellis soon joined in, then Coach, and finally, even Rochelle had to let out a laugh or two.

"He's adorable, uh, if a zombie can ever be called adorable! Look at 'im, marchin' around with his saxophone!" Coach chortled.

"Hold on, hold on," Nick walked onto campus. "I got an idea. Follow me." Ellis, Coach, and Ro all shared a puzzled look, but reluctantly followed Nick.

"You'll never belive me, but I was in marching band at my high school; started back in '88," Nick smirked, crouching behind a bush near the football field where the Jockey was marching.

"Really? What'd ya play?" Coach cocked an eyebrow.

"Sousaphone," Nick replied.

"What's that?" Coach folded his arms, still skeptical.

"It's basically a marching band version of a tuba. Much easier to carry around than a tuba, as the sousaphone's very circular and you sling it over your left shoulder."

"Alright, Mr. Band Geek, name four marching band commands."

"To the ready, standby, attention, and parade rest."

"Name at least two types of blocks."

"Basic and parade block."

"What do you say when the drum major says a command twice in a row?"

"As you were."

"Alrighty then. You're a marching band member," Coach nodded in approval. Since he was the football coach at his school, he had seen the marching band practice quite a few times, and he had overheard many different commands and drills.

"Yup. Glad you trust me now," Nick rolled his eyes. Then he took a deep breath.

"_**DETAIL! ATTEN! HUT!**_" He shouted. The Jockey shrieked and went to attention, swiftly straightening his posture and tilting his sax so it was parallel to the ground, gripped firmly in his hands.

The Survivors blinked. He actually listened.

Nick let out a small snort and tried another command. "_**BAND HORNS**** UP!**_" The Jockey snappily brought his saxophone to his lips.

"_**TO THE**** READY!**_" The Jockey let his sax hang loosely in front of him, made his right hand into a fist and cupped his left hand over it, put his hands on top of his sax, shuffled his feet so they were shoulder-width apart, and stared at the ground.

Nick decided to try and slip him up. "_**DETAIL! ATTEN! HUT!**_" The Jockey screeched and went to attention again. "_**DETAIL! ATTEN! HUT!**_" The Jockey yelled something indecipherable, but didn't move a muscle.

"Speak up!" Ellis called to the Jockey.

"_Asyiwar!_"

"What!?" Coach hollered.

"**_AS YOU_ _WERE!_**" The Jockey angrily blurted out in (finally!) coherent English. "_**AHSEDDATAREDI!**_"

"OK, fireball. Standby," Nick grinned. The Jockey went into a position similar to "to the ready", but he kept his feet together and looked straight ahead. Nick walked out onto the thirty-five yard line where the Jockey was standing. The Jockey gasped and whimpered, leaning toward the right, but not moving, since he was at standby.

"It's alright, fireball," Nick chuckled. "Your jacket's undone. Want me to help?" He knelt down. The Jockey reluctantly nodded, fearing that Nick was tricking him. He relaxed, though, when he heard the zipper glide down and the buttons on the back snap closed.

"There ya go, fireball. You're all ready for the game," Nick patted the Jockey's shoulder and stood up again. A happy chitter was the Jockey's thanks.

"He ain't ridin' yew, Nick. What's up with that?" Ellis folded his arms. "An' why's he in a marching band uniform?"

"Hell if I know, Ellis," Nick shrugged. "I'm not the Lord High Everything."

"The Lord High Everything?" Coach snickered. "Really?"

"Yes. The Lord High Everything. I'm not him," Nick gave Coach a withering glare.

The Jockey gave a small, timid squeak. Everyone's eyes fell on the green-clad zombie.

"Whatcha want, honey?" Rochelle asked sweetly. The Jockey romped toward the school. He turned around and eagerly beckoned for the others to follow.

"_IGOTSAPLACESAFEPLACEFWIENDS! FWIENDSSTAYWIFMEALILBIT!_"

"Well, a Jockey that knows how to march and can speak some form of semi-coherent English. You see something new every day," Nick shrugged and followed the Jockey. The others shrugged to each other as well and followed suit.

And that is how Xavius the Jockey found four new friends to annoy the bajeebus out of. Here begins their tale.

* * *

_**And THAT is how you do it. Crappy chapter one ACHEIVEMENT UNLOCKED!  
I have to give thanks to my friends Amanda and her sister Josie for coming up with "The Lord High Everything". Josie is the Lord High Everything.**_

_**-X-**_

_**Translations for what Xavius said (Yes, he can speak English, but it's fast and muddy):**_

_**Asyiwar - As you were**_

_**AHSEDDATAREDI! - I SAID THAT ALREADY!**_

_**AHGOTSAPLACESAFEPLACEFWIENDS ! - I got a safe place! **__**Safe place for friends!**_

_**FWIENDSSTAYWIFMEALILBIT! - Friends, stay with me for a little bit!**_

_**-X-**_

_**Please vote for what you want the next chapter to be on my poll. I have some options, and if you don't like them, PM me with your option and I will use them in a later chapter, I won't use it as the next one unless I really like it. I'll use one I made myself that got the most votes. Please don't take offense.**_


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